


Hippocratic Hypocrite

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Conversation with the Enemy, Gift for Madamka, Minor AU elements, More What-If, Talon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: Gift for Madamka. A confrontation between Moira O'Deorain & Fareeha 'Pharah' Amari, and the consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried.

~)0(~

 

Her mother had always said,  _ never stop fighting for what you believe in _ .

 

Fareeha Amari felt that sentiment in the very core of her being, it fuelled who she was and what she wanted to become; drove her through the rigours of training for the armed forces, and then provided the impetus to volunteer for the newly reformed Overwatch team. It was never quite the same as the old one she’d grown up within. 

There was a... distance in Commander Morrison’s gaze, a silent pain Reinhardt quietly bore to keep protecting his comrades, the ever-present bags of exhaustion under Dr Ziegler’s eyes that caffeine never fully erased, a tangible ache that tightened the chest at the empty spaces around the conference table where once a vibrant fighting family had sat… and the weight of the world that had fallen atop her own mother’s shoulders. Fareeha saw it each time she looked to her, and it broke her heart; though neither Amari would ever find the strength to talk of it.

 

But, depleted ranks and strange newcomers aside, Overwatch had been revived; even if it was barely functioning in a slightly unorthodox manner. That had to count for something… it just  _ had to _ . Those who had died for a better world, those who had suffered and struggled to survive… their sacrifices depended on the heroes being able to forge a brighter future for those who remained. 

  
  


At first, it had been the omnic crisis that had forced the governments to endorse Overwatch; only to abandon them immediately after the direct threat was through, without a second thought as to what that could mean for the former heroes. Now the world needed them more than ever, and where were they? Scattered across the globe, hunted by their own governments for rewards that many would find irresistible; and considered a threat to the safety of the world… whilst agencies like Talon roamed free, spreading chaos wherever they went.

 

Talon. The dark stain of chaotic forces than incited fear, took control of confusion and panic to profit from misinformation, public distraction, and a lack of moral fibre in their employees. Such as the Fareeha Amari was staring down right this moment.

 

Moira O’Deorain, a former scientist and medical professional from the old days of OVerwatch; the healer deployed with the Blackwatch teams, for those covert missions no one official ever admitted to knowing about. A strange, angular woman whose mind was as sharp as a scalpel blade, and her ethical standards… were somewhat lacking.

 

Everyone, and everything that came across her path was part of some experiment or other; even her own body had been made a weapon through the gods-only-know how many clandestine operations and elixirs injected under cover of night. Overwatch had been unable to turn a blind eye to Moira’s antics after… well, after it became clear that the Super Soldier program had only been stage one for a much larger experiment; that had resulted in so many deaths, so many disfigured bodies screaming in anguish as they failed to keep up with the changes her biological alchemy had wrought.

 

Commander Gabriel Reyes had been the first sign of the desired stage two of her research into evolution and metamorphosis; his cells wavering and shifting into the form he now inhabited as the Reaper. No one was quite certain how Commander Jack Morrison, or Captain Ana Amari, had been affected; but they hadn’t died, certainly. Meaning something had changed, though whether the old soldiers actually knew what Moira’s ministrations had altered in their genetic code… or if they too were in the dark, they had yet to say.

Certainly, Mercy kept a close eye on anyone who had ever even looked sideways at the Irish scientist, but even she was only human; and was limited by the technology available to them at this time. 

  
  


Metal creaked as Fareeha clenched her fists in barely-restrained anger at the thought of what this traitor had done to her family, and the audacity of the woman to be standing there with such a condescendingly smug grin on those sharp features. The soft pulsing of the swirling energies within the tubing along Moira’s arms, illuminated her features sharply, and flickered across those transfixing heterochromatic eyes.

 

For just a breath, a brief moment where the world paused to reassess itself, Fareeha felt like a mouse caught in the predatory sights of a snake. It had always felt like that around Moira, she recalled, in a dim fog of memory from the early days of Overwatch; she had this quality that raised the hair on the back of your neck, always aware of her location, always wary to keep her in your sights. 

 

And then, it passes. Fareeha reorients herself to the here and now, straightening herself where she hovered above the other; a dusty fountain filled the abandoned courtyard to her right, and for just a second her attention is drawn to a glimmer there, as if a memory of trickling water had flashed past. 

 

“So, you have come to arrest me, Officer Amari?” comes a voice like slick oil, amused and… almost benevolent; as if gifting the listener with her gracious attention. It set Fareeha’s teeth on edge.

 

“Moira O’Deorain, you are under arrest for being a member of the terrorist organisation of Talon, for crimes against humanity and omnic kind…” a pause. “And for what you did to Mother, to Jack and Gabriel, and all the others you destroyed for your little games.”

 

Fareeha levels the  Raptora Mark VI’s rocket launcher directly at the scientist, expression impassive and professional as she dares the other to try and phase away. Maybe the first rocket would miss, but the second would not; and Fareeha was a damn good shot, if she said so herself… must be genetic. A small smile quirked the corner of her lips at the thought.

 

“That’s adorable, truly.” Moira drawls, clearly enjoying herself; there was a split-second where they both expected the scientist to begin a sarcastic slow clap, but it passed uneventfully. Despite the threat of being struck with weaponry powerful enough to level a small building, the scientist began moving towards her hovering adversary at a slow, easy pace. Her movements fluid, hard to take your eyes from, and yet almost unearthly; like she was something Other than human. Something Dangerous.

 

“Stand still, or I will be forced to bring you to a halt myself.” Pharah commands, tone slipping back into the familiar rhythm of authority from her days as an Egyptian security officer. Her right arm never wavered as the rocket launcher trailed Moira’s encroaching form. 

Fareeha knew that she could not allow Moira to get any closer, or she risked being in range of the scientist’s ability to drain the life right out of her opponents; the fingers of her right fist twitched as Moira took another step closer.

 

“Or what? What is it that you believe you can do to stop me, little Amari?” Moira challenges, her fingers moving dramatically to punctuate each statement, and pausing just on the absolute edge of her power’s range. Moira glares right into Pharah’s eyes through the visor, and takes another deliberate step forwards before pausing again; just watching, testing her opponent to see what the little Amari would do.

 

“I will do what is right.” Fareeha replies, making a show of realigning her rocket launcher’s aim directly at the irishwoman. “No matter my personal feelings, you must be brought to justice for what you have done. If you resist, I will be forced to take you in the hard way… without mercy.” There was a pause as a grim grin lit Fareeha’s features. “Though you are lucky on that front, at least… Mercy very much wants to rearrange your physical form with her bare hands.”

 

The ghost of a smile appears on Moira’s face at the thought. “Oh, of that I have no doubt… Angela and I never really saw eye-to-eye on my little experimentations. Too caught up in trying to meet everyone’s expectations, and being dragged down by the weight of them, always revelling in a pit of despair for the ones she couldn’t save fast enough. She could have been…” there was a breathless pause as if the other was looking into an alternate future too wondrous to behold, “ _ Magnificent _ .” 

 

In the space between heartbeats, that razor-sharp gaze snapped back to Fareeha, focused and alarming in their intensity; almost considering,  _ something _ . A long, slenger hand rested on Moira’s cheek as she thought about the gods-know-what, eyes seemingly searching for… well, Fareeha didn’t know. And that’s why it was so disconcerting. You just couldn’t read Moira, and that made her dangerous…

 

“Mmm… yes, yes I think it will suit.” Moira murmured aloud, shattering the silence with what seemed an internal musing. She flicks her fingers languidly towards Pharah, and Fareeha automatically tenses up, assuming attack… but nothing happens.

 

Before the question can even begin to form upon her lips, the world shifts violently for Fareeha, heralded by a familiar giggle of mischievous intention. Bright purple light and an odd searing sensation races through her cybernetic implants, and raises the temperature of her Raptora Mark IV suit around her. Jets giving out and plunging her to the ground harshly, paralysed by her own armour… ironic, really.

 

“Bet you didn’t see that coming…” teased the hacker, as her form shimmered into view, teeth-first like the Cheshire Cat. Pharah recalls the flash by the fountain and curses her inattention; though in all fairness, Moira had played her part as a distraction well, she held an aura that made it hard for anyone to turn their back on her without worrying for the consequences.

 

“Sombra… of course you’d be skulking around.” Fareeha ground out, straining against her incapacitated suit to look up at other woman; despite the all-too-familiar skull symbol flashing upon her downed visor. The cheeky hacker sticks out her tongue, and wags her finger, as if Fareeha had done somehow done something wrong.

 

She works it out a few seconds too late, as the cold sensation like bleeding veins and frostbite steals over her body; world beginning to blacken about the edges as Moira comes into view. Fareeha’s very life force being pulled from her prone form in a purple stream of energy, pooling about those talon-like fingers and storing itself inside the tanks upon Moira’s back. 

 

The woman herself was beaming down at their captive, voice fading out as Farrha’s consciousness fell away from the here and now. “Oh little Amari, you are going to make such a wonderful addition to the Talon ranks… even your mother will be proud.”

~)0(~


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to just add that I haven't been very creative for ages and I definitely tried my best.

~)0(~

Distant memories sometimes welled up in the deepest of night as she stood as a silent sentinel, watching over the slumber of her teammates; warring flashes of defiant, agonised screams echoing off uncaringly bland white walls, and grief-stricken faces as they first beheld what she had become. The silver tears that trailed down her mother’s face, breaking the great Ana Amari in a way that no battle, torture or cruelty had before…

 

The shaking hand that had reached out to touch her face, the mesh of flesh and cybernetics, and failed to receive the reaction hoped for. It was not that Fareeha did not care, it was more that she could not… she had been reprogrammed, reforged in the image of a new creator, and given emotions befitting that role.

 

It mattered little, though. The others from Overwatch would understand soon, once Moira was finished with them…

 

One after another, the original members of the Overwatch team had fallen into despair at the sight of her. Her mother had tried to reach her with words, begging her to say something and prove her little Fareeha was still in this new form; whilst Soldier 76 had responded as he always did, telling her to fight what had been done, to return to them. Reinhardt’s shock had brought the giant of a man to his knees at the sight of the little girl he’d carried about on his shoulders so… changed; and Torbjorn could not bring himself to raise a weapon. 

 

Each subdued, captured, brought in kicking and screaming but ultimately unresisting. If Moira and Gabriel Reyes’ desertion had wounded the original team, then seeing Fareeha changed so, was what had struck the mortal blow for many. All recalled the child they had helped raise amongst them, and for their eyes to behold what Talon had created, caused great pain indeed. 

 

Soon they would understand, they would know the truth of the matter, once they were reforged. 

 

Without proper leadership, the barely reformed Overwatch was in disarray; too many bodies, too many voices all vying to take control, and Talon was easily overwhelming their every effort. Snatching up a hero here and there, slowly thinning the herd. Few remained at large, but they could be tracked down soon enough… Moira’s upgrades had seen Fareeha’s abilities increase by a great magnitude; her purpose to hunt, to fight and bring back the spoils of war.

 

A brief scream splits the air as the doors to the medical bay slip open, briefly, to allow the very scientist weighing Fareeha’s thoughts to exit. Moira glanced up from her datapad with a slow smile, expecting the other to be standing sentry in case of escapees…

 

“And how is my golden goddess doing today?” she asks, half-teasing, as her long finger trails the intermittent red and gold lights flashing through Fareeha’s new suit. The datapad slips to the scientist’s side as she slips in far closer; armour-clad arms automatically encircle Moira, holding her tightly. As expected. As designed.

 

“I am well, my love. And the others?” Fareeha queries, eyes flicking towards the shut doors behind them.

 

“They progress slowly, as all do, my dear. Some are responding faster, in part due to their exposure to my past experimental serum… you may even have your dear mother and ‘uncle’ Jack by your side within the month.” Moira smiles, her eyes distant, mind clearly running through various information on the ongoing experiments. She had been particularly excited to get her hands in the irradiated Australians, to see what genetic mutations could be encouraged; although this meant that Fareeha had to sleep alone recently. 

 

“I would love nothing more,” Fareeha responds, in genuine delight. Then added, “Except, perhaps, you.”

 

Moira laughs, “Oh you are delightful aren’t you?”

 

Fareeha grins back, “I am as you made me, delightful and efficient.” She thinks for a long second, as Moira’s stomach growls loudly. “And apparently as hungry as you… would you care for some very, very late dinner?”

 

“Mmmm… I believe they’re calling it ‘breakfast’ these days, my love.” Moira responds, brushing an affectionate hand against Fareeha’s cheek, and pulling away. “Come along Sekhmet, my golden goddess, and we shall see what form of gourmet gruel they deign to serve us this morning…” 

 

Talon grunts moved aside as both passed, bowing their heads in deference, as required. Fareeha followed along behind the scientist, obedient and always on the lookout for potential threats. Unseen by her guardian and partner, Moira grins in triumph at the achievement of having made something as perfect as Sekhmet; loyal, loving, devoted and ruthless. 

 

But then again, she muses whilst thinking of the other heroes slowly being converted to the Talon way of thinking at this very moment, when had she ever failed in bending someone to their will and warping them into what she wished of them?

 

Moira slipped her hand into Sekhmet’s, and it closed automatically, Fareeha turning a bright smile towards the scientist. Just as desired.

 

Just… as programmed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please advise if you dislike it, or want an alternate story, Madamka.


End file.
